


Broken Freezer Chest

by foldingcranes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Depression, Getting Back Together, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes
Summary: Jack smells leather, the metallic tang of blood, and smoke. Even with his eyes closed, he knows who the stranger is, now.





	Broken Freezer Chest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [TLEO](https://theylovedeachotherzine.tumblr.com/) fanzine.

Chicago brings back a lot of memories. It’s a place where the strike team led one of their biggest and most risky operations, to successfully dismantle an Omnium, during a winter just like this one. A mantle of white surrounds the expanse of space near the old Blackwatch facility, the crunchy sound of snow annoyingly interrupting Jack’s thoughts as he walks and leaves his footprints all along the way. He’s not properly equipped for this sort of weather, the heavy amount of snow catching him by surprise and lacking the supplies needed to stay warm in this cold. Jack doesn’t own anything warmer than his 76 jacket and if he wants to survive the upcoming snowstorm, he’s going to have to camp at the facility instead of just grabbing the data and moving on right away. Especially with the bleeding wound on his side.

He may have gotten shot or twice, he didn’t bother to count. The Talon goons chasing him are gone now, bleeding out on the snow, a few kilometers away from Jack. He has lasted this long only thanks to the enhancements running in his blood but not even the SEP can’t stop his body from shutting down after the kind of wounds he has sustained today. Still, all Jack needs to do is get to the old Blackwatch base, use his husband’s old password and turn on the heating before hypothermia wins over bloodloss. 

_ You are almost there _ , he tells himself silently, dragging his feet.  _ Just a bit more, you’re so fucking close— _

Jack faints in before the front door, his body giving way as soon as he can lean against a solid surface. He doesn’t notice the trail of red he has left behind him, spattered all over the snow.

He doesn’t notice the tall, dark shadow looming over him, waiting for him to stop. Walking toward him as soon as he collapses near the entrance.

 

**

 

Jack wakes up to the warmth and softness of a fleece blanket. He’s wrapped up in it, cocooned in the plush fabric like a child. His side aches and stings, but when he looks down, he notices that someone has cleaned and dressed his wounds. It’s a clean, simple job, done by someone who isn’t a medical professional but knows how to take care of battlefield injuries. Aware that he has no biotic fields left, Jack makes peace with having to heal the old fashioned way.

Now he needs to find his anonymous paramedic. The base is dark and cold due to a lack of electricity, the system probably ruined by the snowstorm. Jack woke up wearing no mask and his vision is absolute shit in the dark, which puts him on edge and makes him wary of anyone who may be out there.

But Jack senses nothing. No one at all. He seems to be completely alone. Just like always. The room feels cold and the blankets are not enough to keep him warm, not without the amount of blood he lost. Soon, his eyes are heavy with sleep and his body feels as if it is made of stone. He just wants to…close his eyes. Just for a moment. Rest. Forget the cold and the loneliness. Forget the aches in his body.

Jack doesn’t know how long he’s been dozing, but he suddenly finds himself resting his cheek against a firm chest and being completely surrounded. Strong arms cradling him. It feels familiar and comforting, filling him with a strange sense of Deja vú. Somehow, in his fog-addled mind, he knows that he has lived this before.

 

**

  
  


“If you fall asleep, Jack, I swear, you’re about to catch t—these hands,” Gabriel stutters, teeth chattering from the cold. Jack thinks vaguely how pale his lips have gotten and how wet his nose looks. It’s visibly flushed, even in the dark. It makes Jack think about that Christmas song with the red-nosed reindeer, and he silently laughs at the mental image of Gabriel sporting a red, light-bulb shaped nose. He lets his eyes begin to gradually close, softly humming in answer to whatever Gabriel is currently talking about when he’s shaken back to alertness.

“Stop that,” Gabriel chides. “You can’t fall asleep.”

“I can sleep whenever I want to,” Jack slurs. 

He’s cold, so cold. Even in Gabriel’s arms. They’re secluded in a dark, closed space…is this a basement? Jack doesn’t know anymore. All he remembers is the bullet piercing his shoulder and falling on the snow. That hurt a lot more than he could have anticipated.

“You’re not authorized to fall asleep, soldier.”

“Shut up.” 

God, Jack feels…so heavy and exhausted. Like an anchor slowly sinking on its steady journey to the bottom of the sea. He feels the warm press of Gabriel’s lips against his temple, feels Gabriel rocking him in his arms. Hears Gabriel plead and sniffle.

_ Where are you going, Jack? _   Gabriel asks. 

But Jack is too far away, now. All he can hope is that Gabriel waits for him, wherever he is supposed to be headed. Wherever the cold and the pain will take him.

 

**

 

Jack smells leather, the metallic tang of blood, and smoke. Even with his eyes closed, he knows who the stranger is, now.

Cushioned in Reaper’s arms, he thinks that it might not be so bad to die like this. It’s been a good, long while since he and Gabriel have treated each other with kindness. Touched each other with gentleness. Not a word needs to come out of Gabriel’s mouth. Jack doesn’t need it. He doesn’t need Gabriel’s words, his explanations, his accusations, or his excuses. All he needs is for Gabriel to keep holding him like this until he falls softly to sleep and never wakes again.

“I know you’re awake,” Gabriel grumbles. His voice is deep and hoarse, almost guttural. But he doesn’t seem to be wearing his mask. “I’ve slept by your side for decades and you still think you can fool me with by faking sleep?”

“Yes,” Jack answers in a whisper, throat constricted, chest heavy. 

Nostalgia is a web covering his heart, squeezing it with hope to tear it down. To split Jack’s ribcage in two and let his heart spill out.

That’s a luxury Jack won’t allow himself. “Why are you here?”

He feels Gabriel shift a little, reading the movement as a shrug. “I followed you. You bled everywhere. Left a trail of your own Breadcrumbs.”

“Are you Hansel or Gretel, then?” Jack asks, voice cracking. He thinks he’s dehydrated. 

Gabriel snorts. “Bold of you, to assume I’m not the witch who’s going to eat you.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d make a good meal.”

Gabriel scoffs, then laughs. A deep, low sound, like an angry engine in need of some serious repairs. Maybe he’s been in need of some repairs for a while now. Jack’s very own DIY project. Jack wonders if he even has the proper tools to work on Gabriel, anymore. If he can still hold him through his nightmares, fill his stomach with the flavors of home, hide his messes behind a curtain and hope that no one will find them.

The problem with Jack is that when it comes to Gabriel Reyes, “too much” becomes an abstract concept. It becomes a line that doesn’t exist.

Jack wants to say _I miss you_. And _I’m mad at you_. And _why did you leave_ me.

Instead, he says, “Once I can move them, I’m going to put my frozen hands in your face and make you suffer.”

_ Don’t let him see. Don’t let him know how much of you he has thawed inside and out. _

Outside, the snow falls at a lazy pace. The storm is calmer now, more merciful. Jack will probably be able to leave the base by the morning.

“Why are you here?” Jack asks again, stifled by Gabriel’s silence. 

The shotgun scar on his back stings and throbs every time he thinks about his first encounter with Reaper. It’s a memory that Jack can’t bury under the blank canvas of snow.

“Because.” Gabriel’s ruined voice hesitates for a moment. His hand moves toward Jack’s face, fleetingly brushing his cheek. “Because I couldn’t let you fall asleep.” A heavy sigh makes his chest rise and tremble. His hand settles over Jack’s heart. “Because I was cold, too.”

And this…this is something Jack believes. This is something that he allows. This is something that gives him hope, like a light blooming in that cold, dark base.

Jack presses his ear to Gabriel’s heart and imagines the ice melting.

**Author's Note:**

> [Yell at me!!!](https://twitter.com/foldingcranes)


End file.
